The Ghost of Valentine Past

by Anna J. McIntyre

  And then she thought of Walt. The same could be said of Walt. How will I feel when I’m fifty and Walt still looks as if he is in his twenties?

  “Danielle, are you all right?” Lucas asked. He reached out to touch her hand, but his moved through hers as if it was air.

  Before she could answer his question, her cellphone began to ring. When she picked up the phone from the counter to see who was calling, Lucas vanished.

  The phone call was from Chris. He was downstairs debating if he should ring the bell or not.

  “I think you still have your house key,” Danielle said when she led Chris into the living room. He carried a sack, and by the smell, Danielle suspected he had brought Chinese food.

  “I’d never just use it without your permission.”

  “Then why didn’t you give it back?” Walt asked when he appeared the next moment.

  “Evening Walt,” Chris greeted cheerfully. Looking at Danielle he said, “I called Lily, and she told me her and Ian’s plans had changed; they stayed in with Kelly. When I asked her what you were doing, she said you had stayed home alone and didn’t think you’d planned anything for dinner. Thought I’d save you from a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.” He handed Danielle the sack of food.

  “I never eat peanut butter and jelly. Only peanut butter and mayonnaise.”

  Chris cringed. “You really did need to be saved!”

  Danielle chuckled. “Thanks Chris, that’s really sweet of you.”

  “Yes, he’s a peach,” Walt grumbled, taking a place by the fire. He watched Danielle unpack the food on the coffee table.

  When a lit cigar appeared in Walt’s hand a moment later, Danielle looked up at him and asked, “Walt, would you mind smoking after dinner?” She wrinkled her nose. “Smoking and food really don’t go together.”

  “I wouldn’t know about that,” Walt grumbled, his cigar vanished. “It’s been a few years since I enjoyed a good meal.”

  “Where is everyone?” Chris asked as he took a seat.

  “Heather sent me a text message saying she wouldn’t be back until tomorrow night. No idea where she went. She didn’t say.”

  “I imagine you’ll be glad when she moves back home,” Chris said.

  “Why?” Walt asked. “Even when they move out they just come back.”

  Danielle flashed Walt a smile and took a seat by Chris. “Be nice Walt. It’s Valentine’s Day. Let’s all try to get along.”

  “Where’s…” Chris glanced around. “Your husband?”

  “Oh please, do not call that man her husband,” Walt scoffed.

  “I’m not sure I’d call him a man,” Chris quipped.

  Narrowing his eyes, Walt glared at Chris. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Well, technically speaking…”

  “Oh stop you two! I’ve had a really crappy week. Can we all please stop with the digs?”

  “I’m sorry,” Walt and Chris mumbled at the same time.

  “As for Lucas…” Danielle looked at Chris. “I was talking to him when you called. He seems to just pop in for a few minutes and then goes—where he goes exactly I’ve no idea.”

  “I noticed David Hilton’s car wasn’t out front. I assume he and Arlene went out to dinner.”

  “Oh…David and Arlene…” Danielle then went on to tell Chris all that had happened since she had last seen him that afternoon.

  “You know, technically speaking, Chris got his way,” Walt told Danielle later that evening, after Chris had gone home. He stood with her in the kitchen while she shoved the trash from their takeout dinner into the garbage can.

  “Got his way how?”

  “I know he asked you out for Valentine’s Day.”

  “How did you know that?”

  Walt shrugged.

  “I wouldn’t really call takeout Chinese in my living room with Chris a Valentine’s Date. After all, you were with us.”

  Walt smiled. “Yes. I know.”

  “Who are you talking to?” David asked from the kitchen doorway. Danielle looked up from the trashcan and saw David and Arlene standing in the hallway looking into the kitchen. She hadn’t seen them come in.

  “Umm… I was talking to myself. Did they take Logan Mitcham into custody?”

  David shook his head. “No. He didn’t show up.”

  “Still no word on where he might be?”

  “None.” David said curtly. “I was wondering, would you rent me the room Chris was using? If there’re no sheets on the bed, I’ll be happy to put them on myself.”

  “Looks like they’ve decided to end their lover’s charade,” Walt observed, before waving his hand to summons a lit cigar.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Holding his forehead in the palm of his hand, Adam impatiently motioned for the server to come to his table. He had just sat down a moment earlier.

  “What’s the hurry, Adam?” she asked, order book in hand.

  “Get me a bloody Mary,” he groaned.

  “Rough night last night?” she teased.

  “Just shut up, and get me one.”

  The waitress didn’t seem offended by his retort. Instead, she walked away chuckling.

  Outside the restaurant, Bill Jones tossed his cigarette butt to the sidewalk before pushing through the front door. With a newspaper in hand, he glanced around, looking for Adam.

  “Damn, you look like hell,” Bill told Adam when he reached his table.

  “You should see what it looks like inside here.” Adam motioned to his forehead. “A hell of a lot worse.”

  “That bad? What did you drink, anyway?”

  “The question should be, what didn’t I drink?”

  Bill chuckled. “What was the occasion? I know, you were drowning your sorrows. No Valentine’s Day date.” Seeing the waitress coming toward them, Bill turned one of the two clean coffee mugs on the table, right side up in its saucer.

  The waitress reached their table, carrying a coffee pot in one hand and a bloody Mary in the other. She set the cocktail in front of Adam. “Here’s the dog that bit ya.” After filling Bill’s cup with coffee, she told them she would be back in a minute to take their order.

  “Thanks,” Adam said before taking a swig.

  “Feel better?” Bill asked when Adam set the drink down.

  “No. But I’ll tell you this, I wasn’t drowning my sorrows, I was celebrating. And it was worth every bit of this headache.” A shot of pain stabbed Adam’s right temple, making him cringe. “Or…maybe not.” He took another sip of the drink.

  “Oh that’s right, you had that closing yesterday. On the beach cottage.”

  “Something better.” Adam grinned.

  “Better than a closing? Never thought I’d hear you say that.”

  “I had an accepted offer—on the Gusarov Estate.”

  Bill let out a low whistle. “Holy crap. That’ll be some commission!”

  “You’re telling me. This is turning out to be a great year.”

  “Where did you get the buyer?”

  “Same one who bought the cottage.”

  “Boatman’s friend, huh?” Bill set his mug on the table and opened the morning paper. “Can’t believe there was a murder at Marlow House. That Boatman is a magnet for trouble.”

  “Danielle’s all right.” Adam nursed his drink.

  “I’m sure you’re thinking that about now, considering she’s the one throwing all this real estate business your way.”

  “I used to think she was pretty ditzy but…”

  “Ditzy?” Bill laughed. “The woman leaves the television on to keep her neighbor’s dog company.”

  Adam shrugged. “Lots of people treat their pets like people.”

  “She’s a space cadet.”

  “Well, she could’ve hung our butts for breaking into Marlow House, and all she did was make us fix the window.”

  Bill peered over the paper. “Who fixed the window?”

  “Okay, so, you fixed it. But I helped pay fo
r it.”

  “Whatever…” Bill shrugged and continued to read the paper.

  “Anything new on the murder?” Adam asked.

  “Says here they’re looking for a person of interest. Some private investigator. Logan Mitcham.”

  “Never heard of him.” Adam took another sip of his cocktail.

  “They got a picture of him.”

  “Let me see.” Adam reached for the paper.

  “No one I recognize,” Bill said after turning the paper over to Adam.

  “Damn, I do.” Adam said.

  “Really? Where do you know him from?”

  “I don’t really know him. But he works for Peter Morris.”

  “You mean he worked for Peter Morris.” Bill smirked.

  “Yeah, whatever. I wonder if they’re looking at him for the murder, or just for information?”

  “Doesn’t say. Just says person of interest.”

  “You don’t look very good,” Danielle said after she opened the front door for Adam Nichols, later that morning.

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” Adam said.

  “Come on in, want some coffee?”

  “Might as well. Unless you have any tomato juice and vodka.”

  “Out celebrating last night?”

  “How did you know?” He followed her into the kitchen.

  “Just a guess.”

  Ten minutes later, Adam sat with Danielle at the kitchen table drinking his second bloody Mary of the day while Danielle poured cream into her coffee.

  “I read the paper this morning, about the cops looking for Logan Mitcham. Wondered if you knew what was up with that.”

  “Why, do you know him?” Danielle sipped her coffee.

  “Not personally. Didn’t know his name until I read the paper. Just that he worked for Morris.”

  Danielle paused mid-sip and stared at Adam. “What do you mean he worked for Morris?”

  “Just that. I saw him a few times with Morris. And I was told he worked for him.”

  “Worked for him, how?” Danielle frowned.

  “That’s sort of what I wondered. I read this morning, he’s a private investigator. Wondered why a private investigator would be working for Morris.”

  “Interesting,” Danielle murmured. She looked up at Adam. “Have you said anything to Arlene about this?”

  “Arlene? No why? What does she have to do with Mitcham?”

  “Well, for one thing, you told me you and Arlene knew each other back when Isabella was involved in Earthbound Spirits. Wondered if Arlene ever saw Mitcham with Morris.”

  Adam frowned. “I doubt it. Why?”

  Danielle stood up. “Come on Adam, we need to go to the police station.”

  “Police station, why?”

  “Come on, before Arlene comes downstairs.”

  “This really doesn’t make sense,” MacDonald murmured. He sat in his office with Adam and Danielle.

  “I really don’t know what this is about, Chief. I was minding my own business, nursing a hang over, when I saw this guy’s picture in the paper. Figured Danielle would know the story, and I foolishly stopped by Marlow House to ask. I should’ve known better,” Adam grumbled. “She drags me down here.”

  Ignoring Adam’s rant, MacDonald asked, “Are you sure he worked for Morris?”

  “Pretty sure. I don’t think Isabella would have lied to me about it.”

  “Isabella told you?” the chief asked.

  “Yeah. A couple times we ran into Morris in Portland. He was with the guy from the paper. The second time we ran into him, I asked Isabella who he was. She said he worked for Earthbound Spirits. I figured he was some accountant or something.”

  Arlene was loading her suitcase into the trunk of David’s car when Danielle and Adam returned from the police station. Adam silently watched Arlene as Danielle pulled the Flex into the driveway.

  “So the little romantic weekend comes to a close,” Adam murmured under his breath.

  “Not sure how romantic it all was. David slept downstairs last night.” Danielle put her car in park.

  “Trouble in paradise?” Adam asked.

  “I don’t mean to be gossiping about my guests, but I’m sure all of this is going to come out in the newspaper anyway.”

  Adam frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “David and Arlene didn’t come here for some romantic weekend. They were here to meet a private detective who was supposed to hand over evidence on Earthbound Spirits.”

  “Damn…and then Morris was murdered.”

  Still sitting in the car, Danielle looked over at Adam. “Why didn’t you say anything about Arlene being Cleve’s sister?”

  Adam leaned back in the passenger seat and closed his eyes. Resting a wrist over his forehead he mumbled, “No more gin for me.”

  “You aren’t answering my question.”

  Opening one eye, Adam turned his head and peered at Danielle. “I didn’t see the point. All it would do was get the cops to spend all their time focusing on Arlene and Hilton, instead of looking for the real killer. Look what happened to us, when Cheryl was killed.”

  “Didn’t you for a moment wonder if either Arlene or David was involved?”

  “I don’t know Hilton, but Arlene? No way. And obviously the cops must agree with me or she wouldn’t be packing up to head out of town right now.”

  “The police probably figure they know where to find her.”

  “So, what happened to the evidence they came here for?”

  “The man who was supposed to bring it to them was the private eye whose picture was in the paper this morning. So, no, they didn’t get their evidence.”

  “Logan Mitcham? But he worked for Morris. Are you saying he turned on his boss?”

  “Oh yeah. And when he turned, he really turned.”

  “Are you suggesting…”

  “The cops have evidence that Mitcham may have killed Peter Morris,” Danielle told him.

  “Damn…” Adam shook his head. “What kind of evidence?”

  “I can’t say, but that’s the real reason they’re looking for him.”

  “And Arlene was working with him?”

  “She and David had hired him to look into Earthbound Spirits. I doubt she knew he worked for Morris.”

  “Damn…” Adam unhooked his seatbelt and opened the car door.

  Just as Danielle got out of the Flex, she noticed Arlene coming down the driveway.

  “Danielle!” Arlene called out. “David and I are…” she paused when she saw Adam getting out of the red Flex.

  “Hello, Arlene,” Adam greeted.

  “Adam…hello.” Arlene looked from Adam to Danielle. “I just wanted to tell you, David went to fill up the car with gas, and when he comes back, we’re going to finish bringing the rest of our things to the car and take off.”

  Before Danielle could respond, Adam asked, “Danielle, do you mind if I talk to Arlene alone?”

  Danielle glanced warily from Adam to Arlene. “Umm…okay…I’ll be in the house.”

  “I know why you were really in Frederickport,” Adam told Arlene. The two sat on the porch swing in front of Marlow House.

  “The entire weekend was a disaster,” Arlene groaned.

  “Sorry. I understand the private detective you hired has disappeared.”

  “Yeah, and they think he’s the one who killed Morris.”

  “Why do they think that?” Adam asked.

  “Because…well…for one thing…I saw him in Marlow House around the time of the murder.” Arlene then went on to explain her encounter with Mitcham prior to the murder, leaving out the part about their brief affair and his parting kiss.

  “There’s also something else,” Arlene confided. “Something I haven’t told the police yet.”

  “There’s more?”

  Arlene nervously licked her lips. “Logan told me the only way we would ever bring Earthbound Spirits down was if we got more people to start looking into their criminal behavior
.”

  “I can understand that.”

  “He told me we needed a high profile case—that’s when he suggested I call Isabella’s father, and tell her Morris had her killed.”

  “Isabella died of natural causes.”

  Arlene shook her head. “According to Logan, he had evidence proving Morris had her murdered.”

  “If that was true, why didn’t this Logan guy just go to the police himself?”

  “Because the coroner’s office was in on it. And Isabella’s father has money. He’d be able to get the right people to listen to him.”

  “So, what did you do?”

  “I called Mr. Wayne several times, tried to get him to look into it.”

  “Do you believe your brother killed Isabella?”

  “No!” Arlene shook her head adamantly. “Cleve refused to kill her, that’s what Logan told me! I could never have called Mr. Wayne had I thought my brother was responsible. I…I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

  “Did you tell Wayne who you were?”

  Arlene shook her head. “No. I made up a story about how I was a member of the group, and afraid. Logan thought Mr. Wayne would believe my story if he visited a website we frequented—one that discusses some of the things Morris’ group has done to hurt other families. I kept forgetting to tell him about the website.” Arlene shrugged. “But I don’t think it really mattered. I got the feeling he believed me.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Overhead, the dark clouds threatened to bring another day of rain to Frederickport, Oregon. After parking her car in front of the beach house, Carol Barns grabbed her purse from the passenger seat and prayed she would make it to the front door before the rain started falling. Just as she reached the gate, she noticed the mailbox was open, and it wasn’t empty.